


Over the Edge

by zubeneschamali



Series: sheriff!Jensen and gunslinger!Jared [3]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, M/M, gunslinger!Jared, sheriff!Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 15:52:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12867918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zubeneschamali/pseuds/zubeneschamali
Summary: Third in the sheriff!Jensen/gunslinger!Jared 'verse. Jensen's hoping that Jared managed to get away from the Marshal, but he's not prepared for what happens next.





	Over the Edge

The sun had already climbed above the hills, and no one had come to tell Jensen that his prisoner had escaped. So he saddled up and rode into town, ready to be shocked to find that Padalecki had knocked out his deputy and escaped.

If he shifted in the saddle a little more than usual to try and relieve some unaccustomed soreness, well, that was no one else's business but his.

When Jensen got to the jail, the first thing he saw was Osric, standing outside with a hand to his forehead. He breathed a quick sigh of relief that Padalecki had indeed left him (mostly) unharmed as he swung off his horse. "Morning, deputy," he said. "How's our prisoner?"

Osric looked miserable. "Not here."

Jensen put on his best look of surprise. "What do you mean, not here?"

"He got the jump on me," Osric replied. He moved his hand to show the slight red lump on his forehead. "When I came to, he was gone."

"Damn it!" Jensen wiped his hand over his mouth and channeled the fury he knew he should be feeling. "Eight months it took me to track him down, Chau." 

"I know, sir," Chau mumbled. 

"Eight months," Jensen repeated in a harder tone of voice, lowering his head as if to struggle with his anger. He sighed. "And the Marshal's coming today to get him, too."

"He was already here." 

Jensen's head snapped up. "What?"

"He and his men." Osric pointed over his shoulder. "They rode out to the east. Said he would probably try and head that way to get around the mountains and south to Mexico."

"Why didn’t they come past my place?"

"Um." Osric shifted on his feet. "Marshal Pellegrino maybe thought that if Padalecki had managed to escape from your jail, then you might not be so useful at finding him."

The back of Jensen's neck prickled. "What does that mean?"

Osric took a deep breath and met Jensen's gaze. "He was questioning your competence, sir. Which is totally unfair, because I'm the one who—"

Jensen waved a hand to cut him off, relieved that the Marshal didn't suspect him directly of playing a hand in Padalecki's escape. "It's not your fault, Chau. He's a slippery bastard."

"Yes, sir," Chau replied. He straightened up. "Should we form our own posse to try and find him?"

"You and me?" Jensen asked with a raised eyebrow. "Who's gonna watch the jail?"

"There's nobody in it now." Chau's shrug was miserable.

Jensen shook his head. "Get yourself to Doc Beaver and have him take a look at your head. Then get some rest. I can take care of things here."

The deputy nodded and shuffled next door to the doctor's office.

Once inside the jail, Jensen let out a deep breath. So far, so good. No one suspected that Jared had paid him a visit last night on his way out of town, much less what that visit had consisted of. He tugged at his collar, making sure it covered over the red marks from Padalecki's mouth that hadn't quite faded yet. 

 

It was late in the day when the jingling of reins and the whuffing of horses told Jensen that he had visitors. Heart in his throat, he went outside to see four men on horseback, the lead one a man with scruffy blond hair and a badge pinned to his coat. 

None of the men were Padalecki, and Jensen inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Evening, Marshal," he said, raising his hat. "I’m Sheriff Ackles. Sorry I missed you this morning."

"Sorry you didn't have my prisoner for me," Pellegrino retorted. 

Jensen winced. "I am too," he said. "Believe me, it was a lot of work to get him here."

"I bet." Pellegrino pushed his hat back and scratched at his head. "The good news is, Jared Padalecki won't be a problem for you anymore."

Jensen drew his head back, heart suddenly thumping. "You mean you found him?"

"It appears he didn't know the territory out here as well as the horse he stole did," Pellegrino replied. "We spotted him south of here, close to the trail up the pass. He was headed full-tilt away from us, when he got to close to the edge of some canyon. Spooked the horse, who threw him. Bastard went right over the edge."

A chill ran down Jensen's spine. "Cottonwood Canyon?" he asked. As deep as that canyon was, if Jared had ridden up to it from the edge of the trail…it was a long way down.

The marshal shrugged. "Fuck if I know what it's called. All I know is, we got to the edge in time to see him bounce." 

The two men behind him snickered, and it took everything Jensen had in him not to draw his weapon on them. "So he's dead?" he asked, voice clipped.

"No doubt about it," Pellegrino replied. "Watched what was left of him float on down the river and disappear somewhere in the rapids. Saves us the effort of hauling his ass back to Santa Fe, and saves them the trouble of a rope. Seems like a good deal all around, wouldn't you say, Sheriff?"

Jensen clenched his jaw and tried to ignore the sudden pain in his gut, almost like he'd just been shot. "Yeah, sounds great." 

Pellegrino gave him a two-fingered salute and led his men off towards the Sunrise Inn. It was the more run-down of the two hotels in town, but the rooms were priced to include company for the guests. He heard the marshal's men already talking about what kind of company they were planning on entertaining.

Then one of them said something about seeing Padalecki go flying off his horse, and they all cracked up, and Jensen had to turn away before he stormed after them and demanded they show some respect.

He couldn't think about Jared being dead. Not yet.

Jensen stuck his head through the doorway long enough to tell Deputy Chau, who'd come back after a clean bill of health and some rest, that he was headed home. Then swung up on his horse and rode out of town on a gallop. 

Half of him wanted to ride down to the canyon and see if what Pellegrino had said was true, but most of him didn't want to know. If they didn't have a body—if Jensen never saw a body—then he could imagine that Padalecki had gotten away from the marshal and his deputies and was riding free and clear to Mexico. After all, they might not have really seen what they said they did, might have not wanted to go to any effort they didn't have to. Yeah, it would be much better if Jensen thought about it that way.

So Jensen headed home, trying not to think about what it was going to be like getting into his bed tonight.

 

He had taken the saddle off his horse and was brushing him down, maybe taking a little longer than he normally would, but it wasn't because he didn't want to go into his own house. That would be ridiculous. "There, boy," he said, patting the horse's side. "You don't mind a little extra attention, do you?"

The horse whickered and lowered its head so Jensen could scratch between its ears.

Suddenly, there was a rustle in the hay in the next stall. "Damn mice," Jensen muttered. Ms. Harris kept offering to give him a cat, but he kept forgetting to take her up on it.

The rustle grew louder, and the low groan with it was definitely not from a mouse.

Jensen drew his gun, senses suddenly alert. "Who's there?" he called out.

There was no response.

Jensen put a reassuring hand on his horse's flank and stepped out of the stall. Aiming in front of him, he rounded the corner and kicked the stall door open.

There was a pile of hay in the back of the stall, ready to be spread out the next time Jensen mucked out Impala's stall. Collapsed across the hay, one hand pressed to his side, the other limp on the ground with the shoulder above it at the wrong angle, was Jared Padalecki. 

He blinked up at Jensen. One eye was swollen and bruised, the other deeply bloodshot. His clothes were torn and muddy, and one knee looked like it was twice the size of the other. He had to wet his lips before he could speak, and even then, it was barely a croak. "Had…nowhere else…to go."

Jensen stared at him in astonishment. "You're not dead," he finally said.

"Not…yet," Padalecki agreed. He looked down at Jensen's gun and then back up at Jensen. "Though if…gonna turn me in…" He moistened his lips again. "Just…shoot me. Please."

Jensen swallowed hard. "I’m not gonna do that."

Jared's eyes briefly closed. When he opened them again, he barely whispered, "Please. Rather die…here than…on a rope."

It should have been a tough decision, but instead, it was one of the easiest decisions Jensen had ever made. "You're not gonna die," he said, holstering his gun. "Not here, and not on Pellegrino's rope."

The faintest of smiles crossed Jared's face. "Thank you," he whispered.

Then his head lolled to the side as he passed out.


End file.
